A Cornish Revenge (The Loveday Ross Cornish Mysteries Book 1) by Rena George Page B

something the police already knew?’
    But Lawrence smiled grimly and shook his head. ‘The police didn’t know everything.’ He looked up at her, the strain etched on his face. ‘You see, it wasn’t me who crashed the car that day. I wasn’t even there.’
      Loveday’s mouth dropped open, but she did not interrupt him.
      ‘It was Anchriss,’ he said softly, ‘My wife.’
      Lawrence had never mentioned a wife.
      ‘She’d been drinking,’ he continued softly. ‘Normally she never touched the car when she was drinking, but this was an emergency. Meredith Teague – she and her husband, Brian had the cottage next door – came hammering on the door. She was in labour…the babies were coming and she was all alone. She was panicking and begging Anchriss to drive her to hospital.’
      He spread his hands in a hopeless gesture. ‘…And the rest is history. I was out in the woods sketching and heard the bang. Anchriss had been thrown clear and was hardly scratched…but Meredith. I told Anchriss to get off home and call an ambulance. Everyone just assumed that I was the driver, and I didn’t tell them any different.’
      He met Loveday’s shocked eyes. ‘I had to take the blame. Anchriss would have been crucified if she had gone to trial. You can imagine the headlines – Drunk driver kills expectant mother and her unborn twins!’ He paused and gave an ironic laugh. ‘It killed her anyway. My going to prison instead of her just increased her guilt. She hanged herself …from the beam in our kitchen.’
      He made no attempt to check the tears rolling down his face and Loveday had to blink hard to check her own smarting eyes. Her arms went round him and for a while they sat like that as the sea churned and tossed behind them. After a while they stood up and began to make their way slowly back to their cars.
      ‘I had committed perjury, you see,’ Lawrence said quietly, as they walked. ‘And that’s what Bentine was threatening to tell the police. I wasn’t all that bothered about the prospect of going back to prison…but I couldn’t allow him to blacken Anchriss’s name.’ He shook his head. ‘I couldn’t let him do that.’
      ‘No, I can see that,’ Loveday said gently, touching his arm. ‘And do the police now know all of this? Is that why they arrested you?’
      ‘No, it wasn’t actually. They found some kind of blackmail list at Bentine’s place, and my name was on it. I don’t think he could have added any details. I’m sure the police would have confronted me with them by now if they had known.
    ‘But they did check me out. Took my picture to the landlord of the Borlase pub and he identified me…told them it was me in his bar the night Bentine was murdered.’
      ‘But surely that should have cleared your name. I mean, you could hardly have dragged Bentine down to that beach while you were sitting in the pub.’
      Lawrence shook his head. ‘I don’t know if the police see it that way. I think they believe I killed him…but they just can’t prove it.’
      Loveday was horrified. ‘…And they never will, because you’re not guilty.’ She took his arm as they neared the pub car park. ‘Nobody but Bentine knew that Anchriss was driving that night?’
      ‘Not as far as I know.’
      ‘But somebody must have, don’t you see, Lawrence. That’s why they have been trying to frame you.’ She bit her lip. ‘There’s more.’ She screwed up her face, flinching as the words came out. ‘Somebody vandalised one of your paintings at the museum in Truro…sprayed it with red paint.’
    She didn’t have to wait long for his reaction. The blood drained from his face. ‘Christ,’ he said, his voice shaking. ‘What’s going on, Loveday?’

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Loveday knew what she going to do before she reached home that night. She would check out Cassie’s story about the pub along the coast – and there was no time like the present. So, instead of turning